Backfire
by Mary Zrw2800
Summary: Booth has been told many times: it's dangerous to play with Christopher Pelant, but he didn't listen...
1. Chapter 1

Spit-polished chains was slicing into the wrists' skin. Booth didn't understand what time is it right now, but due to bright lights, shined through the big windows with snow-white curtains, he got that it's a middle of the day.

A picture in front of his eyes was reminding him a big and crazy carousel: everything was flowing and flying round and then frozing for a second, becoming distinct, but after that was smoothing again. From time to time he saw around himself a decked room with bleached walls, with strange two-levelled tables everywhere. Something laid on them, but his eyesight was too weak for now to detect what exactly could it be.

Fetched his wind a bit, he compassed with disgust that he's almost upright, chained by hand and foot to the fixed base, and there're nothing but a lot of terrifying surgical instruments on those damned tables. They were of many shapes and different sizes, but all of them were sharpen as well as possible. What is more, the base wasn't metallic and wasn't even wooden, it was made by high-quality artificial leather and really looked like operating-table.

Seeley twitched the chains twice, but stopped quickly: it was becoming more painful. Looked around carefully and took a control over his hazy mind, he figured out with despair where he is, and understood that he won't leave this place without any help.

"You're here because of yourself," Pelant came into the room, shaking down his hands.

"Indeed? Sounds like I nailed myself to this thing independently, did I?" Seeley didn't used and didn't going to show his fear.

"Figuratively saying".

"Not epically, you know".

"I called it. I'm afraid I will had to cut you tongue for all that," he rolled his eyes in disappointment, inhibiting himself seeing how much the agent's face turned convulsed by the heard.

"Don't forget the gloves".

"Oh, don't worry about that," Christopher waited patiently for the moment when he will ask him about his guilt, but he hasn't said anything yet.

"So, are you going to talk with me all the time?" the agent snarled and chuckled, trying to exhibit his fearlessness, but the shot ragged breathing turned him in; "I can get bored soon".

At least, no manifestation of fear could be hidden from Christopher Pelant. He was a real expert in these things.

"You don't need to be afraid of boredom, I promise," Pelant stepped towards the small table and took a long scalpel in arms slowly.

"The gloves," Seeley whispered with an effort; "You didn't draw them on".

"But l didn't want to do anything," the criminal removed his hand immediately and let himself look into the victim's eyes, when he understood that it's too hard for him to take a control over his desires. But he was had to; "I just evaluated. I haven't got problems with my memory".

 _"Only with your sick mind," Booth continued inwardly._

A few minutes later Christopher got tired of it and after a couple of silent seconds he drew on fine medical gloves indifferently.

"Why?" Seeley gave up exactly when he took the scalpel again.

Honestly speaking, he was simply playing for time in hope that they are looking for him and will find him very soon, although he knew perfectly well: all which tied to Pelant can disappear if it's necessary. And his body will also be disappeared if the provident killer wants this. But probably he will act the opposite way this time and exhibit his work for everyone. It's a majestic honor and pride for him to kill invincible Seeley Booth and break the hearts of his family and co-workers by that.

 _Temperance will cry over it so much..._

"Because it was a bad idea to tease me!"

Even the criminal didn't predict it from himself. Words slipped out from his mouth like unstoppable stream, what was rare and untypical for his temper. He always could take a hold on himself, keep his high manners, scaring his helpless sacrifices due to that wide cold-blooded smile, but now his tongue proved to be more important than habits. Apparently, a run-up of so meaningful murder was exciting him so much. Suddenly Pelant found a quite interesting thought, that if he had a choice: to spent the night with his lovely Brennan or get a chance to deal with her "super-agent", he would chose the second one. By the reason of this conclusion his face was distorted by wicked, terrible smile, which he hurried to hide for a while:

"I swear, I didn't want to harm you, honestly, but you left me no choice," he grabbed him by his cheekbones and turned his face forcedly; "Little stubborn boy. Once you stepped into my territory — play by my rules".


	2. Chapter 2

"Everybody plays by your rules anyway. What, haven't got enough forces to complete with me fairly? You а coward!" Booth brought it out without any confession.

"That's funny. People always call cowards those who prefers to proceed more clever. Everyone who doesn't see a sense of being on thin ice, going by any moral principles".

"These principles make us human. Not even in physical meaning. You'll never get it".

"A lecture from "heroes" — so boring. And what did you achieve due to your morality? Did you want to deal with me? So, here I am. Did you want to catch me — please, look, I'm standing in front of you right now. But it was silly to hope for a luck".

"But I tried and I'm not regretting," Seeley smiled out of spite; "What did I achieve? So, maybe, a career, a respect, a loving family, for beginning. And you are abhorrent for everyone".

Pelant turned pale by anger. His victims had never snarled with him before, especially so rude. Well, he knew that their conversation won't be easy.

"You haven't understood this yet, but you made a fatal mistake. Exactly when you got in touch with me and my guys".

"With your guys? Wow! Brave guys like Flynn, let us say?"

 _Favor for a favor — nastiness for a nastiness._

"Shut your mouth, you a sick asshole!" Booth groaned; "You will pay the bills one day the and stake your life on our deaths".

"Oh, come on! You need to be less trusting in this tough life. Everyone knows that he was a rat, and only you're still doubting. You thought I stay informed through the Web and you went all out of security, but I decided to do simpler: retained a man whom no one would dare suspect of treason. Unfortunately, money take priority nowadays".

Christopher turned the cutting edge in his hand like he was judging the chosen instrument, then took it in arms strangely as if he was going to resist, came closer and, drawing back the the shirt-band, cut it half-and-half.

"Sorry, but I need to see what I'm working with".

"As your wish," the agent sneered and looked away; "Every toy is O.K that keeps the baby at play".

"That's right".

He stared at his body, figuring out the best way to behave. Pelant never had such a sporty physique that attracts women, causes them real delight, and men — jealousy and genuine respect.

He suddenly blinked several times in a row and shook his head gently, driving away strange, even for him, bad thoughts.

"Think quickly," the agent hurried him; "You was about to begin with my tongue, remember?"

"I changed my mind".

"Really? Why?"

"I just like listening to you," he realized too late how ambiguously he expressed; "You're not screaming, crying for save, not trying to call for help. Perfect. I wish it could always be like this".

"I appreciate this. Nice place, by the way," he looked around.

"Yep, I fitted it out by myself," the criminal approached him and held a cutting edge to his collarbones.

"Needless to say".

Booth partly got ready for something that would be painful. Very painful. More than ever. Partly, because it's impossible to be completely ready for such a filthy thing as pain.

 _There is always fear._

The next second, Christopher pressed the tip a little, and the blade cut the thin skin easily, releasing bright fresh blood. He didn't stop and moved his hand lower, delineating the collarbones with a long red line.

"You have a reduced level of hemoglobin," he concluded, watching a little as the scarlet trickles are draing into his intense body; "What, was limiting yourself in meat recently?"

"I'll take into account next time that you're the walking laboratory".

And then they both laughed, understanding that it won't be next time.

"I planned to administer you a novocain, actually," Pelant pointed to the syringes lying on the table which were full of turbid liquid. Some of them had long curved needles; "But you're a strong guy, are you? You can bear it without any anesthetics".

Seeley took a breath and closed his eyes for a while. He didn't answer. There're nothing pleasing in cuts, but it's a delight in comparison with what this obsessive insane going to do with him. And he was sure: Christopher just has outlined the contours of the area which he's intending to work in. As an artist with a pencil.

He did his sketch like a house on fire: long smooth lines followed the bends of the collarbones perfectly, not breaking off or getting lost from the desired trajectory. The professional's hand was laying on the live canvas confidently. But he was having the only one paint at his disposal — the color of a mature wine.

"No, no, no, that wouldn't do," the criminal shook his head with displeasure. This dripping blood was annoying him.

Then he bent over to press a lever under the table and warned Booth about his intentions. But the massive construction didn't get down slowly and neatly, as it was designed to, — it collapsed to a horizontal position so fast that Pelant barely jumped out of the way. The federal agent almost had his heart stopped. It took his breath away. Perhaps, it was the most unexpected thing during his stay here.

"I think you had to fix it," Seeley said nervously, staring at the ceiling, when he suddenly understood that it's a big mirror above him.

"It had been working. Damn," Christopher swore, embraced the fact that he must repair it by-hand after that; "And it's all because of you. You're really pain in my neck".

"Of course it's because of me! Not of you, Pelant. Never of you".

"You're too cumbersome, I told you," he said, looking at his wrists braced by chains which have already started to become blue; "That's good that I guessed and didn't strapped you on. You would stretch all of my belts".

Pelant grabbed a piece of a damp gauze and wiped carefully an irritative blood, that was smoothing contours made by him.

"Amazing, right?" he asked, noticed that Booth's looking in the mirror; "You'll miss nothing".

It was silly to think about escape. Seeley was barely feeling his hands and feet, and he couldn't break the chains. He got in touch with someone who always considers everything, who provides for every possible end. He's a shitty genius who never leaves marks, even killing somebody on display.

Seemed like this time Booth really got himself in a situation from which he will not get out alive.


	3. Chapter 3

Seeley rarely had been regretting something so much, almost never, but now this pressing, chilling feeling of guilt for the perfect mistake was eating at him.

 _He shouldn't tease him, he'd been told..._

Not only his own death was scaring the daylights out of him, it was disgusting to realize that after his doom nobody will protect Brennan better than he did. She'll becoming weak and helpless, having learned about his tragic end, and it will be easy for Pelant to get to her in the created turmoil.

From the beginning, Booth gave a promise that he'll preserve her, stay near during his all life, no matter how short it would be because of his dangerous work. Temperance reproached him thereat and asked him not to say that again, and he wasn't saying, but he always had been knowing and remembering his promise which he kept.

Seeley imagined with a heavy heart how she's crying quietly near his grave, getting down on the humid ground covered with a fresh grass; how she's suffering from grief, not finding solace into her pain, and Christopher is keeping an eye on her patiently, silently like a hunter oversees the prey. Booth was wanting to groan due to this terrible conclusion, scream with all his strength, but he won't show his true emotions: if he have to die today, it's only with honor. He won't let Pelant leave the last word.

Christopher put aside the scalpel calmly and took the bigger one with his famous confidence. This knife with a curved cutting edge and an ornate handle seemed like hunting weapon, but its beauty didn't cancel the dangerous. Booth's pupils dilated, and his heart skipped the beat.

"Is it a collectible knife?" he asked, looking sideways on the cold steel.

"Yes. My favorite. The family assets. He's more than thirty years old," he answered seriously, being so proud of his range of nasty things for torture.

"How many?" Seeley asked again on purpose, despite the fact that he heard everything right.

"More than thirty, you know. There's a result of what a true care and treatment can make. But I don't like using it actually: it's too blunt partly and cuts more painfully and less neatly than others".

And after that the agent felt nausea coming up to his throat. It was a protective reflex of the body: to clean the stomach of food in a stressful situation. And the more fear appears, it becomes harder to overcome this desire. He felt sick for the first time in his life, in a moment of nervous, brain and physical tension, but the realization that Pelant is going to cut him with a blunt knife without any anesthetics drove him into a real shiver. He already prayed inwardly to lose consciousness as soon as possible from a violent pain.

"But, hey, don't worry. I sharpened it specially for you".

The criminal didn't say this at once deliberately, wanting to enjoy his pale face. He was satisfied, seeing how the idol of many people, a real hero, the standard of courage is absolutely helpless now and has only to reconcile with his ugly fate.

Christopher was bursting with impatience, but he knew: if he lose control, he will spoil his pleasure. Nevertheless, it was a time for the last step of a preparation. He liked it more than previous one.

Booth had already convinced himself that Pelant would start to kill him, but he scoffed at him again, showing the instrument of torture chosen by him. He also accepted that no one will find him in the next half an hour. Even if they're searching him by any means necessary — the criminal led them in the wrong direction for sure. And when they're being at a standstill of a high-profile case with a radiant hope, he will not alive.

 _"Do you breathe the name_

 _Of your savior_

 _In your hour of need,_

 _And taste the blame if the flavor_

 _Should remind you of greed..."_

Humming a catchy song, Pelant felt the wide leather belts under the table and pulled them out, fixing the agent's wrists and feet stronger than before. The belts were softer than steel chains and wasn't harming the skin, and Christopher removed those painful shackle, nailing victim's limbs tightly.

"Hope that's better," he said, continuing;

 _"Of implication, insinuation and ill will_

 _Till' you cannot lie still,_

 _In all this turmoil, before red cape and foil_

 _Come closing in for a kill..."_

The next belt lay around his neck, not letting upping the head anymore, and the last one was tightened under his chest so bad that it became harder to breathe.

"Is it too strongly?" the criminal questioned with concern, holding the buckle in his hands; "I can relieve it if it's bad. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable".

"Should be good. I'm thankful for your caring," he brought contemptuously.

"As you please".

"You have a quite good ear for music, by the way. Why are you laughing? I'm honest," of course he wasn't.

"In these moments I can see what Brennan found on you. You're a life of the party".

Finally, Pelant was prepared to start. His cheekbones were cramping up because of anticipation, and he took a knife enthusiastically, smiling ear to ear.

"So, are you ready?"

"Hey, you're an asshole, that's right, but you're a man and by the reason of it you must keep a promise," Booth said suddenly.

He had thought a lot about how he can make him wait a little more time, and, probably, now he had a plan.

"Well," he looked at him with interest, freezing at his place; "Are you going to offer me something?"

Christopher was understanding perfectly that Seeley is distracting him on purpose, finding other ways to talk with him and play for time, and it kept making him laugh. But he was giving into his ploy so as not to deprive the agent of the last hope. In fact, there was a panic in Jeffersonian Anthropology Unit long ago, but they were looking for Booth at the other end of the city due to the fake videotape, in an area near an abandoned factory, believing that he really was there.

"Like that".

"Great! I like deals!"

"That's why you need to listen to me carefully," he breathed deeper, gathering strength to go ahead; "We both know who is your real target. Of course, it's silly to rely on you, but I have nothing to lose. I just wanna beg you to don't hurt her. You can do anything you want with me, I'll not say a word to you. You can cut me with anesthesia or not — no matter, have a revenge on me in full-time, but in return, stay away from her. Deal?"

* * *

 **Author's note:** song: Poets of the fall — Carnival Of Rust


	4. Chapter 4

Christopher listened him patiently, not interrupting, keeping silent, and then thought about the sense of this chatter. In spite of his sins he treated the promises responsibly and had always been keeping them. It was the policy of his doubtable honor. And by the reason of it he had to weight advantages and disadvantages carefully and decide once and for all: whether he should swear an oath. He really was crazy about these things, but it was rare for anyone on the deathbed to dictate terms to him. But Booth was an exception to the rule, and the criminal could afford to give in for this. As a sign of respect, so to speak.

"I don't need your permission to harm you. The deal hasn't got a sense," he didn't refuse, but implied that Booth hasn't persuaded him enough yet.

"It has if you have a dignity. Face it, you'll kill her by my death anyway, figuratively saying, of course, what else do you want? Her body? No, she won't let it, being alive".

Pelant frowned. What did he want at all? He couldn't answer this question clearly. He wished he could be alone with her, where was not a soul for miles, somewhere in a quiet lonely place.

He dreamed about to talk to her. Without her fear, without a gun on her hip — just to spent their time together as if they had always been familiar.

Doctor Sweets could write anything he want in his reports, but Christopher was a realist and had been always understanding Brennan doesn't love him. Besides, she's afraid of him and hates him for wounds he inflicted. But he couldn't ignore her phantom interest coming through layers of disgust and antipathy. He drew her attention not as a man, but as an equal to her, someone of a similar passion, but he didn't care about it.

"I will kill her," he repeated unwittingly, then blinked and stared at Booth.

His words seemed to the agent worse than war, and he has already lost control over his emotions.

"What... What are you talking about?"

"I'll kill her by your death".

"So," he said, looking at himself in a mirror regrettably; "Deal?"

"Deal. I do this not often, especially if we're meaning so serious agreement, but... have it your way. Consider she's in safety. Just give me a favor: lay calmly and don't bother me, okay?"

Seeley sighed with relief. It was strange, unique feeling — a self-deception with a hint of naivety. Booth had never been trusting Pelant and wasn't going to, but he had no choice except to reassure his soul this way. After all, it was getting better when he was closing his eyes and imagining for a second how his noble sacrifice will secure Temperance. Suddenly, he laughed nervously.

"What is funny?"

"Nothing," he answered, catching his breath a bit; "Hey, when you will see her next time, please, tell that I love her so much".

"She knows".

"Anyway, tell her anyway. It can never be enough. Now... Let's start".

Pelant turned confused at first, but regained control fast. He came behind the headrest and leaned towards him, gazing at the agent intently. It made Booth feel uncomfortable.

"Open your mouth," he asked and smiled vile; "I won't pluck out your teeth, I promise."

Hearing such a strange request that wasn't constitute anything good, Booth looked at him anxiously, irritatingly and sarcastically partly, but decided to behave the other way around: he gritted his lips and shook his head.

"Oh, come on, don't spoil my impression of you. Open your mouth," it sounded strongly.

"What for?" he whispered through his teeth.

"Oh my God, why are you so stubborn? It's not interesting to torture you! It was a surprise, you know".

"Oh, I'm so so sorry," Seeley pretended that he really was upset, but only for a few seconds; "I don't like surprises. Especially from you".

"Well, as you wish," Pelant rolled his eyes and shrugged.

 _He could make him obey, but it wouldn't bring him any satisfaction._

When the criminal took something from the table and raised this in front of Booth, showing him, the agent guessed with horror only after some time that he was holding nothing but a real rag.

"What you think you are?" it burst out of him loudly.

"Any problems?" Christopher was hiding his laugh hardly. He knew that this temper can play into the hands of him; "Trust my experience, that's better".

"I will not put this sh..."

Pelant excellently chose the moment when Booth has lost his vigilance due to anger and put a rag in his mouth quickly, ignoring his protest and making it difficult to fasten the belts of twitching.

"It's all already, calm down," he could barely fix the strap on the back of his head; "I understand that this is unpleasant for you, but it will be easier to bear the pain this way".

He didn't want to listen to him at all.

"Calm down!" Pelant's nerves weren't iron, although they were strong enough.

Christopher pulled the neck belt sharply, making the federal agent wheeze and choke with his own helpless. Apparently, he has forgotten a bit how much Christopher is capable of being cruel at will.

"If you don't stop resisting, I'll break our agreement and bring her right here, and she'll scream and cry so loud that you can't imagine. Understand?" he wasn't going to make good on these threats, but it was needed to remind Booth with who he's talking.

Seeley nodded weakly, lightly.

"That's great," Pelant said and relieved a wrenching belt.

The agent took a deep breath and bend as much as a chest belt let.

"Keep silent, be a good boy, and then, probably, your fate will be less awful. Probably".

Booth had never been feeling worse than now and not because of physical abuse. He bore gunshot wounds, shrapnel from mines under his skin, fractures and dislocations, but he hadn't been suffering so shameful humiliation. Anyway, he didn't have long to torment: Pelant took a knife and wasn't intending to derogate from his aim.

"While I was wasting my time with your stupid conversations, your blood dried. Fortunately, you can't say a thing anymore".

The hush was the answer. Booth looked away.

"I know who I am, don't curse me. Because l'm cursed already".

He put a cutting edge to the agent's body and made a short, but deep gash. His eyes became crazy due to this action, and Booth saw the Devil's soul in them.

"I have no idea why, but in a cinematography it's okay to show how the main character bears all tortures bravely and even snarl with antagonists," Christopher was telling, continuing to cut his collarbones, twisting the knife inside.

The agent was witnessing through the mirror what he's doing with his body, and suddenly he understood his evil intention: he's scalping him. Seeley clenched his fists and screwed up his eyes, his veins bloated from the strain.

He has thought many times about every Pelant's murder, remembering mutilated corpses burning into his mind, he has reflected on how much his victims had hurt before their deaths. Well, he's about to know this firsthand.

"But everything is different in real life. It's impossible to suffer this pain without a heartening scream, and I don't like screams. Groans, tears — that's a real pleasure for my ears, when squeals and others — an annoying mess. So, I advise you to have a deep breath and not hold yourself back. One, two..."

 _"I love you,"_ his last thoughts were about her. About the one in whom he think the world of from the very beginning to the very end. He loved Temperance more than his life, he was ready to give everything for her, and he gave himself eventually in the name of her salvation. He will bear it. He will bear everything in the world in the name of her.

"Three".

A small cleaned-up room with uneventful whitewashed walls and curtained windows became filled with the loud howling. And soon the lines sang by a measured, calm voice had begun to be heard on this desperate background:

 _"It's all a game, avoiding failure,_

 _When true colors will bleed_

 _All in the name of misbehavior_

 _And the things we don't need"._

Far away from them, at those abandoned factory where a rescue operation was doomed to failure, Brennan, working with a team of the best federal agents, suddenly stopped for no reason. Her glance froze for a moment, and suddenly she felt something cracked in her chest as if the bones were breaking. However, not a flesh was ached, but the soul.

 _"He's not here," she said with inexplicable certainty, although they just went inside; "He is ...not..."_

 _~oooOOOooo~_

Booth didn't expect to open his eyes again, somewhere deep down he was afraid to open his eyes again. You could say, he even didn't want to do it. But fate changed everything. Not understanding where he is, is he alive or not, Seeley, not showing any signs of wakefulness, started to listen: there was a silence around, but with some incomprehensible persistent beeping. Being confident that it's the Pelant's handiwork, he regretted completely that he woke up because that meant his suffering wasn't over.

Booth moved a bit and noted with amazement that he didn't feel any discomfort at all, except for a strange sore-throat. He thought that Christopher specially pumped him full of something. Full of a paralytic, for example. However, with a slight movement of his right hand, he discovered that he was mistaken. Then he tried to tear his hand away from the bed and suddenly opened his eyes, not believing that there were no belts on it. But everything turned out to be a happy truth: he found himself in the hospital, and only a dropper was attached to his hand, which was empty, incidentally.

But he wasn't crazy and remembered well what happened with him. So, why he's still alive?

Seeley thought a little and took a dropper off, then took off other sensors monitoring the parameters of his life, and sat on the edge of the bed with an effort. He looked at his chest and got wide-eyed when he realized that it was bandaged up. Everything was real, no doubt.

 _And what could have made Pelant change his mind?_


	5. Chapter 5

Booth didn't have time to recover — his phone that appeared out of nowhere cell on the nightstand. The agent came to it carefully and noted an unknown phone number on its display. He picked up the phone, but took it down to ear silently, waiting his interlocutor will begin to talk. He had a bad feeling.

"How are you?"

He called it. His eyebrow twitched and he flared his nostril due to anger.

"You..." he was going to say, but stopped when he understood suddenly that he got hoarse and now he can only wheeze quietly, despite all of his efforts.

"Oh, look, sounds like you've lost your voice," he was sneering; "No wonder, actually. You screamed so loudly... Thanks to the rag, right? Hey, relax, everything is fine".

"What a..." he couldn't adapt to his hoarseness; "What a hell?"

"Yesterday we had a deal about Temperance, do you remember?"

"I do".

"So... the problem is I used to keep my word. And I thought", he sighed heavily; "and decided that I can't leave her. I don't know is it a good news for you or not".

"The second one, most likely. But I'm glad to know you can be honest sometimes".

Seeley didn't lie: he was really anxious about the fact Brennan was still in danger. Besides, it would become harder for him to meet Pelant after that humiliating, however, he was alive, and that meant that he had a chance to complete with him and save the people's life. He was willing to cope with it in the name of revenge.

"There is a thing," Christopher chuckled; "And don't worry about your wounds: I disinfect it by myself, earlier than surgeons have done it, and even stitched up where it was possible. It'll cured. But a memorable blemish will stay".

"I won't let you get away without a punishment. I'll find you, take my word for it".

"A rematch?"

"If you'll fix your table," it was his turn to smile, although he wasn't doubting that the criminal is feeling the same now.

"Everything you want".

"That's nice. Tell me," he continued after a short pause; "Where did you buy such a good rag?"

"What? Did you like the toy, huh?" he can't hold on his laugh.

"I want to get it, in fact. Because exactly you'll put it on next time," he blurted it out with arrogance; "Go ahead, but you'll let me do this. You like deals, do you? So I have a couple of interesting suggestions".

"I like your attitude!" Pelant almost shivered due to astonishment, and it was pitty that his interlocutor couldn't see this.

"There's worse to come".

* * *

 _ **Two weeks later**_

* * *

"Something urgent, Booth?"

Temperance was speaking in a whisper, going downstairs to the bones storage. Seeley almost never went there, but now he suddenly wanted to talk with her in this empty place.

"Why did you not tell me this at the top?"

"Because he can hear us there".

"Who?"

"He," his expression became more obsessed, and it troubled Brennan to the depths of her soul.

Actually, his demeanor had been strange since the day when Pelant harmed him. And after this incident Seeley started to behave differently than they all were used to see: he read the Christopher's case from beginning to the end, did it again five times, and finally asked to give him a medical report about victim's autopsy. And it was no matter that he was understing nothing in this science at all. At the same time, he was able to affirm that he's okay and what happened didn't influence on him. Sweets tried to talk with him many times as a doctor with his patient, tried to find is the root of the trouble, but Booth held the line insistently and repeated his first version: he remembered nothing, except for pain. He turned more open with Temperance, read from memory a few lines Christopher was saying. She listened them, going cold because of awe, flinched, felt sorry for him. She couldn't do anything else except to feel sorry for him after his suffer and to support, encourage him, and to stay happy inwardly that he was alive and near. But they all knew perfectly well: Pelant doesn't give a second chance.

Seeley didn't imagine how much did she cry in that day when he was taken to the hospital with bleeding and bare collarbones coming up through his flesh.

He was close to die in that day. Again. It was difficult for Brennan to count how many times she was concerned about him. So, every time when he went to detention. But she had never been showed him how she harassed herself by nights, staring at the phone nearby and waiting for the message obsessively: "A subscriber is available for a call."

"Hey, listen, I hadn't been telling you all about that day," he began, wrapping his arms around her shoulders softly, witnessing how her glance is turning confused; "I'm sorry, but I did it for your good. And now I would like to ask you..."

"Are you not going to tell me at all?"

"That's why I'm here with you."

Booth was nervous. He was breathing fast, moving his eyes back and forth, looking around, but at the same time he was in impatience on account of his intentions.

"A problem is that I made a deal with him about you. And, following its instructions, he will leave you alone only when he will kill me".

He looked too excited for such an awful news.

"But why... Why did you..." she was about to answer, but her mind didn't want to focus.

She expected to hear anything, except this. It made the blood run cold: Pelant would kill him certainly, no doubt. The question is whether they can stop him earlier, guiding by law.

"I had no choice to protect you," he held her arm carefully.

"Well, why are you sure he'll keep his promise?" Temperance tried to hold herself back, hiding her emotions; "He doesn't worth your trust. He says one thing, but as a result he does another".

"He's a monster, but he will. That's his rule".

"I forbid you," she said seriously, there were a hint of disturbance in her voice, but it also was full of caring. She realized the whole essence of what was said: Seeley made an arrangement with the devil, and such things never do without someone's sacrifice; "I forbid you to go near him, especially alone, do you hear me? Do not you get how dangerous he is? Did not you have enough of what he did with you?"

"You'll be in safety only after one of us will die. So, he or me. I'm sick and tired of his perversity, but people who are close to me still can't live easy, and this fact doesn't let me sleep".

"Please, tell me you have a plan," Brennan almost lost her hope she may persuade him: she had been knowing him for too long.

"Of course," his lie sounded earnestly because he was least wishing for her to get upset due to his decisions and his desire to put himself into a deadly situation; "I just wanna specify details of our agreement. Don't worry, nothing illegal. I need to talk with him without an excess attention".

"How can I keep calm when you're intending to go to him all alone. Go to this sick person," her voice trembled.

"Everything will be fine, just trust me. Have I ever broken my promises?"

She dropped her red eyes down and pursed her lips.

"So," she finally answered, looking at him again; "What did you want to ask me about?"

* * *

About an hour later, when Booth didn't return to the workplace, his colleagues started to panic. After the incident with Pelant everyone was especially sensitive to his pastime. However, none of his co-workers could imagine where he could have disappear in the middle of the day. But soon someone remembered that he was going to go to Jeffersonian Anthropology Unit. Brennan told them absolutely calmly that she saw him and talked with him, but their conversation had a purely business orientation and she didn't know where he was now.

* * *

Pelant opened his eyes and didn't realize at once that he was still in his house: the windows were curtained, there was a full darkness in the living room. He also didn't understand he can't move. His hands were tied behind his back strongly, when his ankles were nailed to the chair legs.

"It was easier than I thought," Booth was sitting on the armchair strangely, turning around and putting his legs on the armrest.

Christopher flinched from the suddenness when he saw him.

"You have no right to that," he twitched, but it brought him nothing but pain; "Untie me. Now!"

"Or what?" Seeley stood up and stepped towards him; "Would you cut your sensor? I'm afraid you can't touch it".

"Where did you get the poison?" he asked, remembering slowly how the federal agent visited him with a view to speak frankly, then grabbed from behind and insert the needle into his neck; "It isn't sold in pharmacies. It isn't sold anywhere at all".

"You forget who I work with. Sometimes I don't need pharmacies at all".

He argued with Hodgins a couple days ago that he as a scientist is inferior to Pelant in knowledge of chemistry and by the reason of it he can't synthesis a substance that would render someone unconscious no more than a minute. Jack perceived it as a personal challenge, dropped out of work for several hours (for which was reprimanded by Cam a bit later), but he won: the drug was ready to use soon. Booth promised to treat him with a beer on occasion. When Hodgins departed for business for a while, the agent had enough time to pour the substance into a smaller vial and after that tell the scientist that he poured everything out as unnecessary. No one had any suspicions.

"I'm not a professional in this subject, you know, so my apologies if it was rude and unpleasantly".

"Well," Pelant sighed nervously, realizing in which situation he was and that Booth is attuned firmly, and thereafter laughed quietly and insanely; "Okay, you're surprising me more and more. You're very angry, I guess."

"Wow, you're such a quick-witted today".

"As always".

"That's great. After our dialogue I had been thinking for long and decided finally that I don't like those conditions," he turned on the torch and shined in his face, because of what Christopher averted his eyes.

"Kill me if you caught me. You won't have another chance. You or me, you know this rule. And put the flashlight away, we're not on the interrogation".

"How you want," he turned it off and put into a pocket; "That's a good idea, you really deserve to die, but there is only one killer in this room. So, give me a favor: open your mouth."


End file.
